A man in a trench coat steps into the alleyway, walks down the steps, and knocks on a steel door.
A peephole slides open.
“What the password?” a voice growls.
“Mendicant,” whispers the man in the trench coat.
“Thank you,” growls the voice behind the door, and the peephole slides shut.
Somewhere in the building, a man at a computer terminal is drumming his fingers, waiting.
Another man runs into the room and says “Mendicant.”
The man at the terminal types in the new password. The screen confirms the input.
“I hate having to change these things every ninety days.”